I stepped out of my car early on a Friday morning and stood looking around the parking lot, watching the other employees of Smith Inc. winding their way towards the boring gray building. Today was "The Day". I was going to put all of my effort into seducing my boss, Mr. Olson. I'd been his secretary for almost 2 years and we still called each other Mr. Olson and Miss Bennett. I knew that the other employees called us 'The Stiff and the Slut'. And I probably was a slut. Beautiful, with long red hair and green eyes, perfect skin, huge breasts... And I dressed to accentuate my features, not to hide them. And I loved sex. I wasn't a nympho, I wasn't addicted or neurotic. I just loved the feel of a big cock in my cunt, in my mouth, in my ass, between my breasts, in my hand... Occasionally one of the cattier women at work, jealous of my good looks, would make a comment about how they couldn't understand why Mr. Olson didn't fire me or transfer me or something. How could a cold fish like that tolerate an almost indecently clad woman running around his office? Actually, I wasn't that indecently clad. It was a business after all and I didn't want to get fired. But the typical short skirt suits just looked more revealing on my curvaceous hips and large breasts than on less shapely women. And I just had an attitude of sexuality about me that I certainly was not going to hide.
And Mr. Olson was a cold fish. Dressed in conservative business suits, always the same neat trim boring hair cut, well-modulated voice, stiff controlled movements, he was the epitome of business, control, repression. It wouldn't have surprised anyone if someone had said that Mr. Olson hadn't had a single thought about sex in the past ten years. In fact some people even thought he was gay, how else could a man not show some kind of response to Paige Bennet? I knew that Mr. Olson wasn't gay. I'd met his girlfriend. (I know that isn't exactly evidence of not being gay) She was thoroughly drab. Thin, no breasts or hips, mousy hair, shy - a librarian! I couldn't picture the two of them kissing, let alone enjoying a passionate fuck.
So what in the world was I doing being attracted to Mr. Olson? He certainly wasn't my type. Every other man that I had fucked had been more the hunky beefy type, a great fun date and a great lay. And let's face it, I wasn't just attracted to Mr. Olson, by that time I was practically obsessed. He was a challenge. He was totally different from every other man, I found his lack a sexuality totally sexy, I knew that he had to have a volcano of desire hidden somewhere within him, I wanted to break through the veneer that hid his sexuality and fuck him with every thing that I had in me.
And today I was going after him, no holds barred. All week long we had been doing this inventory/evaluation of all of our files for the past 3 years. We'd been working together in his office all week and each day my clothes got more and more revealing. And I was getting hotter and hotter! I'd had to excuse myself to the ladies room and finger fuck myself several times that week. I stepped into the ladies room near my reception area now as I went in to work. I was wearing a white shirt that was very businesslike, buttoned up to the collar, long sleeves...but is was very thin. It was easy to see the white bra that I wore beneath it, the bra was cut so low that it barely covered my nipples, in fact if you looked closely you could see a bit of my nipple sticking out of the top of each cup. I was wearing a light blue blazer over the shirt of course, no sense starting a riot as I walked to the office. I was planning on taking the blazer off as soon as I entered Mr. Olson's office.
I also had one more trick up my sleeve. I grabbed the waist of my light blue skirt and pulled it up so that it just hid the tops of my stockings. With each step I would be revealing a little skin and the beginnings of my garters. I also wasn't wearing any panties. I turned around and bent over in front of the mirror, the majority of my ass was revealed and from the right angle is was easy to get a glimpse of my shaved pussy lips. Perfect.
I dropped my things off at my desk and entered Mr. Olson's office. He always got to work early and he was already bent over his desk looking through files. He barely glanced up to give me a polite "good morning, Miss Bennett." I took off my blazer, hung it over a chair, and announced in a cheerful voice that I was "ready to get all this work done today, even if I have to stay late." This caused Mr. Olson to look up with an approving, oh-what-a-good-secretary-I-have smile. I was smiling at him innocently, watching his eyes as they slid over my body. I have to admit that Mr. Olson wasn't exactly oblivious to the way that I looked on any given day, it's just that it never seemed to have any effect on him. Today his eyes lingered for a few seconds on my breasts and I felt a fluttering of hope start in my bare pussy. He thanked me for my good attitude, like a good boss, and we started working.
There were two extra tables set up in Mr. Olson's office on either side of his room. One held boxes of files and I was working at the other table. I took every possible excuse to walk back and forth between the tables, walking with a bounce in my step that would make my skirt swish back and forth and reveal more skin and make my large breasts jiggle. I also took every opportunity to lean over Mr. Olson's desk (from the front, I didn't want to reveal my backside too soon) and put my breasts into his view. He was certainly looking at my breasts more often today than ever before and I was almost cursing myself for not wearing a shirt that would reveal more of my bare breasts. But knowing Mr. Olson that tactic wouldn't have worked. I comforted myself with the fact that he was paying attention to my breasts.